


Midnight conversations (love you, fuck you too)

by MadDemonheart



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Courting Rituals, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Heath is Keith's dad and Krolia's husband, Human Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shiro thinks Lance is an idiot, They're stupid help them, Truth is they're both idiots, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolf Shiro (Voltron), maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadDemonheart/pseuds/MadDemonheart
Summary: After an accidental encounter, Lance is unknowingly adopted by a pack of werewolves. After years of training as a supernatural hunter with his newfound family he goes off to college with his stepbrother, Keith.When he arrives he has an unlikely encounter with Shiro, a packless werewolf. After deciding to let him go he thinks he'll never see the lone wolf again. That is, until he opens the door to his new dorm room and comes face to face with the man he hasn't been able to get out of his head.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Midnight conversations (love you, fuck you too)

It was dark out. The stars seemed to be swallowed by the emptiness of the inky black sky, twinkling merily in this navy ocean as a desperate attempt not to be drowned. For sole light, there was the dim flickering of lampposts, the cracked glass casting creeping shadows on the destroyed concrete. Only the light bulbs could be heard with a faint buzzing sound as they shone cold white spots on the ground, an endless dance that came in and out of existence like a ballet of ghosts. There was no wind, just a slight breeze, but a chill remained, the night air as cold as ice.

Krolia felt like an intruder in this strange place as her heels clacked loudly against the pavement, breaking the solemn silence. Heath looked around anxiously next to her, breathing unease in as his eyes sought out the darkness.  
The buildings surrounding the couple seemed to close in on them, bringing a new sense of insecurity in the already charged atmosphere. The air was heavy with tenseness.

Krolia wondered how it ended like this. What was a nice dinner outside went quickly to a nightmare once they left the restaurant. She couldn’t remember if it was Heath who suggested taking a shortcut, or her who came up with the idea of a late night stroll like they haven’t done in a while. Now the nostalgia was far from her mind as she felt herself grow more and more cautious. 

In their attempts to perceive their surroundings, they observed the environment they happened to walk in. What could have been beautiful and warm homes were now crumbling buildings. Dilapidated ruins of a bright past falling in shambles bit by bit. They took in the vines on the cracked walls, the holes on the broken concrete. This neighborhood once so welcoming without a doubt rang now with melancholy.

This whole place was but a shadow of its former self. Lost in desolation.

A howl from a bit farther ahead made them jump. They unconsciously came closer to each other, on high alert.   
They scrutinized their surroundings cautiously, walking with careful steps so as not to fall with their feet trapped in a crevasse as they engaged into the dark, dimly lit alleyway. But there was nothing. The creature they heard was nowhere to be found either, prompting them to stay closely knitted.

There was a sudden flash of movement before them. It caused Heath to step back in surprise, almost falling over if his wife wasn’t there to catch him. Amidst the shock, he swore that he saw a sliver of black, shiny in the dark.

Another movement had them standing back to back, ready to launch themselves at the threat. But just as they were about to strike, a growl interrupted them. Krolia stopped mid-motion as she saw a quivering shadow, smaller than her. The growl wasn’t so much a warning as it was a desperate attempt for protection. She felt hit with a strange sentiment.

Separated by a wall of darkness, she had the sudden growing need to come closer. It slowly outweighed the uneasiness and before she knew, she was already stepping forward hesitantly. She wasn’t deterred when the growling went louder, the need now an itch under her skin. The further she went, the more she felt herself drawn.

Heath remained inactive, transfixed, his feet frozen to the ground. Their bond was present but inactive. It was an unnerving situation that he never faced before, and he didn’t know what to do. It felt like stepping into unknown territory with utmost calm, not a single trace of anticipation in the face of blind trust.

He didn’t have to ponder on those concerns for long - though he knew he'd be thinking about it back home - as the growling faded out with a rustle. Krolia stopped to a halt with a shocked jolt. The sensation she felt was alike waking up from a dream.

Before they could begin to process what happened, the growling was back at a tamer level. Just like earlier, none felt truly threatened, instead overcome with an odd calm and this confusing need itching them. 

When they turned around in a quick motion, all fear and worry were washed away at the sight they met. 

Ahead of them was a barely grown puppy at first looks, barely noticeable with its black fur blending in the shadows, baring its teeth in a hopeful display of oncoming danger. While it made for a pretty unconvincing menace in its poor state, its matted fur muddy and sticking out in odd places, so thin it barely covered its frail limbs, it remained on steady paws, fixing on them an unwavering stare.

There was a sense of familiarity, somehow, that confused them greatly. It was lingering there, on the tip of their tongue, at the edge of their mind...The scent Krolia could smell coming from it in waves was unmistakable. 

Her eyes flashed in recognition at the whiff she scented. Suddenly it all made sense. It wasn’t any type of pup; they were facing a werewolf kit. A packless one at that, judging from its fragile and dirty state, alone in such a shady place.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought. She thought of her own pup, so young and defenseless, and tried imagining him in a similar situation, abandoned by all. She couldn’t bring herself to picture it at full-term.

This poor kid seemed to have seen things, and was obviously wary of them. Yet he seemed oddly tense, almost expectant of something.

Heath cleared his throat. The sound nearly made him wince. He hadn’t noticed how low the growling has gotten, almost ceasing altogether at the noise he made.

“Hey bud” he slowly began, “we’re sorry we got into your territory. Don’t worry, we won’t attack you.” As he spoke, he started to release calming pheromones, hoping it would be enough to put the pup more at ease. “Do you...need something from us?”

The kit looked at them, seemingly hesitant to trust them. But then, surprisingly enough, he barked. 

Krolia suppressed a shocked jolt at the sound - while it was weak, it still thundered in the silence of the place. A feeling that was increased with the urgency laced to it, and the look he sent them. His eyes shone with a light spark of hope. 

The cub stared at them for just a few more seconds before he flip-flopped and bolted out in a whirlwind of black fur. Another bark could be heard then, more insistent, deep in the dimly lit avenue.

Heath consulted Krolia with his eyes, not saying anything. Only a nod was exchanged. They knew what to do before even looking at each other. There wasn’t a second to spare as they followed suit.

They headed off to the avenue, walking at an assured pace with a careful watch for their surroundings. The air was still charged but it wasn’t crackling with the same tenseness, although a heavy atmosphere remained.

It was back as they reached the end of the avenue, Heath halting to a stop. Krolia froze next to him, hesitant and cautious. The dim lights of the lamp posts seemed so far away. Now, they were facing a bottomless pit, a void that would leave nothing behind. The darkness seemed to stretch in tendrils towards them, inviting them in.

Krolia quietly took Heath’s hand and went forward. She took the first step into the unknown, Heath trailing behind as they engaged into the obscurity, a giant maw of darkness that swallowed them up without a trace left.

When they stepped out of the abyss, the change in atmosphere hit them like thunder. Somehow, they were suddenly standing in the remnants of a children’s playground. 

They began treading on pale grass, careful not to let go of the other.

Before their eyes was a devastated, barren land. Grey and ashen, the new area looked desolated, reinforced with the ghostly shine of the moonlight. The decaying state of the playground, with the fading paint, cracked wood and crumbling games, rang with melancholy. Its deserted state felt like a faraway place, isolated from the rest of the world. They were alone there, where nothing could reach them.

Everything in this place breathed gloom and misery. An old, ran down playground, silent and devoid of life.

And yet…

Krolia and Heath found themselves struck with immense sadness. Their eyes gleamed with filling tears that would not fall.

Suddenly, the playground seemed to hum. A sweet, ghostly lullaby marked with a mournful feeling. It was a lamentation of utter sorrow and despair, fragile and crushing all the same. A lead of glass, beautiful and shattering.

Heath was the first to move. He seemed to be pushed by an unknown force, this sudden feeling catching in his throat and guiding his steps. Raw anguish was clouding his mind, all his senses dulled and acute with sadness. 

Krolia followed him, overpowered with the same feeling. Once again, there was this irrepressible need to come closer. She noticed, through the haze of sadness, that they seemed to be going towards one of the games present in the playground. 

They were led to the foundation at a leisurely pace, chest clenching painfully in their chest the more they went, an odd sensation clawing at them. 

Heath was the first one to reach it. Relying solely on his instinct and the crushing sadness overpowering his senses, he slowly bent down. Not an ounce of hesitation in his heart as he peeked under the structure, seeking with bleary eyes. 

He was met with the sight of a small shadow hiding right below the platform in a secrete corner, concealed from view. 

His eyes widened, pupils slitting and irises glowing lightly. What looked at first like a dark form was in fact a little kid tucked in on himself, face hidden between his scrawny knees, perched on a bench falling to pieces. He thought he saw the wolf kit hanging nearby, a vague impression. In a blink, with barely more than a rustle, it was gone.

Heath couldn’t take a look though. Instead, he found his gaze trained on the child who seemed to catch all the attention, stealing all the air and light in the confined place. The moon seemed to shine down on him, a ghastly aura that made him look like an apparition coming straight out of a dream. For a second, he thought he imagined it.

But then the kid slowly raised his head. And his glowing irises met bright oceans. 

He was instantly filled with an overwhelming sadness, knees giving out below him. His vision distorted in bleary shapes as a light gasp rang, deafened slightly in the quietness. He believed there were tears, bright and clear as crystals in the kid’s eyes, blurring his striking irises, the rest a mere blur. But then he felt how wet his cheek had become, heart shattering with desolation and loneliness, and he realized - he was crying himself. 

Shocked into silence by his own tears, he didn’t think to call for Krolia, who was standing guard outside. He didn’t have to though. 

Krolia was hit by the distressed scent of her mate and on wide alert, she rushed to his aid. She first saw Heath’s face drenched with tears. Just as her eyes landed on the child, she felt her heart tightening in her chest before breaking in thousands of pieces. Immediately after, her vision blurred, eyes watering with unshed tears.

Just as stunned, she kept quiet only for a short moment. At a sucked in gasp from Heath, she gained back her composure. Tears continued to fall down her cheeks as she faced the kid. 

No older than four, he was a skinny little thing, all bony and sharp angles. His body was barely covered by a large tattered shirt, and the loose shorts he was wearing were falling low on his hips, showing off how worryingly thin he was under the light materials. It was obvious the little clothes he had on were in no way protecting him from the cold, or outside harm in the way they couldn’t hide away the scraps and bruises covering his frail limbs.

Slowly, without a single sound, the kid uncurled from himself. He lowered naked feet to the rubbery ground and stood there, watching them attentively. His lithe shoulders shook with sobs, his legs seeming to buckle under his weight. Yet he stared straight ahead, unblinking through the tears drowning his irises, silent as a grave. 

Krolia was shaken a bit by this display of strength. There was something about this child, a weird, indescribable sensation, almost _surnatural_. Next to her, she could feel her husband shiver at this sight, his softer omegan side quivering in fury and horror. Her own instincts were kicking in, but her alpha didn’t flare up against the kid. There was a rage there that lit a fire through her mind, but it was washed out and drained to the core with a drizzle of sadness.

She tried speaking, but all that came out was a gravely “Little one…” in a rough voice. She swallowed nervously before trying again. “You...you shouldn’t be out here so late”, she began in a gentler tone. However, the rest of her words got stuck in her throat, coming out garbled.

She strained to speak, words choking her as protective instincts tore at her heart. Submerged with overwhelming sadness, crushing rage and encompassing worry, she remained quiet, trying not to seem anxious.

She didn’t know if he heard her. He didn’t try to speak or show that he’s listened, stock-still like a statue, save for the tears rolling down his cheeks and lightning quick blinks.

Heath took the silence as his cue.

“Hey lil’ one” as he spoke, he lowered himself to the child’s level, coming eye to eye with him. “Are you okay?”

The kid didn’t answer, but his lips parted slightly on an inaudible huff.

It was enough to have Heath continuing. “What are you doing here kiddo?” Once again, the kid kept quiet. “Are you lost?” Nothing. “Are you on your own?”

The little boy raised his head imperceptibly at the latter, watching the man through brown lashes pearled with tears. Loneliness was swirling in his eyes, with an intense sorrow so much it was suffocating.

Heath’s eyes began to water but he continued to speak patiently. “It’s dangerous being alone here at night” his voice was soft and careful, attentive to the child, “Have anywhere to come to?”

The kid stayed silent, but he began to tremble slightly. Krolia made a gesture towards the child, but he leaned away lightly, stepping out of her hand’s reach.

“I’m sorry” Heath genuinely told him, “we look a bit scary, with my scar and her glare” he joked, “but you’re safe here.” He searched for the kid’s gaze, speaking with frank honesty. “We won’t hurt you, I _promise_.”

As he said the last words, he slowly held out his hand to him. This time, the kid didn’t move away. Despite the amount of time Heath gave him with his calm pace, he didn’t retreat, staying put and looking at him. He sought out for a trace of lie, any emotions in Heath’s gaze that’ll show he shouldn’t trust him, unsure to believe them. 

But Heath’s eyes shone with sincerity, only warmth and care brimming in his gaze full of promises. Seeing how genuine Heath was, he seemed to let go of his last doubts. There was still a lingering hesitance as his hand hovered over Heath’s own, but as he took another look at Heath’s gaze, so kind with a disarming honesty, he found himself putting his palm atop his.

Heath offered the kid a soft, inviting smile. With a slow pace, he delicately held the child’s hand in his own. He squeezed it with utmost care, putting the littlest amount of pressure on the thin hand.

The kid looked at him in response. A second after, he began to shake. His hold, at first so fragile and doubtful on Heath’s hand tightened considerably. His lithe form began shivering, before being agitated with jolts that jerked his shoulders. And then, the kid burst into tears.

His small body was trembling uncontrollably with the strength of his sobbing. The air was instantly charged with such an intense and overbearing sadness it was suffocating. Heath surged forward, catching him before he could crumple in a hip on the ground. The kid fell into his open arms with a cry. Immediately, his little hands latched on Heath. They grabbed at his clothes and gripped tightly at him, as if afraid to let go - that if it happened, Heath would just disappear.

The little boy buried his head into Heath’s collar, sniffing loudly. His trembling lessened while in the man’s arms, but his grip remained the same. Heath had a strong feeling the boy had never really known kindness and he believed all of it to be a lie. With infinite precaution, he rose to sit on the bench, keeping the child secured in his arms. 

Krolia went to sit before him, kneeling on the ground at his feet. She hesitantly rubbed the child’s back, trying to ease his cries and suffering. Soon, her movements devolved into confident patterns, and the child grew less and less tense, until he stopped trembling altogether. However, his cries, that have turned into soft sobs, were still there.

He quitted the comforting safety of Heath’s collared shirt to rub angrily at his eyes, but his tears did not cease. At last, he stopped heaving, his breathing only troubled with small pants.

Heath didn’t want to let this newfound calm pass. “Do you have a home?” He shook his head negatively. “Are you alone?” This time, he nodded.

Heath hummed in acknowledgment. He didn’t need to concert Krolia once again. He breathed in, slow and patient, then looked at the kid with attentive care.

His tone was encouraging and sweet as he asked, “Do you want to come with us?”

He dearly wished in his heart, that his offer would not be rejected. His heart clenched at the thought of the little boy staying here on this rackety bench. He prayed it wouldn’t come to this. That the kid would choose them, would make what he considered to be the rightful decision.

Said kid looked at him with wide eyes, as if Heath had offered him the moon and stars. He turned his head slightly to glance at Krolia, fearful and yet full of hope that could be read on his face. The woman smiled at him then, inviting and soft. “You can come with us, little one. We’ll protect you.”

“...Can I?” the child’s voice was a mere whisper, but it surprised both of them nonetheless. It was the first time he spoke. Both of their hearts soared in cheers.

“Of course you can, kiddo,” Heath replied, mellow and sweet, “We’ll take care of you, okay? Our home is yours.”

The little boy nodded, lower lips trembling with the weight of his emotions. He hugged Heath’s neck and didn’t move. They eventually got out of the structure and cautiously made their way through the playground. 

Just as they reached the exit, he looked back into the darkness, taking everything in one last time. 

“What’s your name, kiddo?” The question tore him away from the eerie place, from all that was once familiar. 

The tear tracks on his cheeks glowed lightly under the moonlight. He seemed surrounded with an ethereal halo. His eyes were shining with hope, small happiness flickering in them as he looked at the couple. 

His voice may have been a soft and gentle murmur then, but it was clear as crystal when he said his name.

“I’m Lance.”

* * *

_Many years later..._

Lance looked at the sunny sky with unconcealed joy. His irises were now a lively blue, sparkling with dozens of little lights, like stars at nightfall.

“Here we are at last!” he said, twirling around excitedly. “Altea University is right there!”

Lance was smiling brightly, nearly tripping over his feet in his little happy dance. The little boy had grown into a cheerful young man, sprouting up by sophomore year in Garrison High to end up 5”10 tall with long legs that went on for days. An asset he liked to highlight with the shorts and fishnets he was currently wearing. 

This was completed with a long-sleeved pastel crop top that showed off his lean frame and light muscles and a massive neon yellow belt with a big silver buckle that hugged his thin waist. 

His big sneakers didn’t clash with the rest of his outfit, white and silver with neon blue laces and bright baby blue soles. Sunglasses stayed atop his tousled warm earthy brown hair, reflecting the clues in rainbow hues. 

He wore an immaculate toothy grin contrasting with his bronze skin, his ocean eyes shining with a newfound determination he lacked as a scrawny kid.

Now radiating with confidence and unafraid to show himself, Lance seemed like a whole different person. No longer was he the scared little boy. Instead there was Lance Kogane, a young man with dreams in his head, a joyful and infectious laugh, a loving and friendly nature and a constant grin on his face. Someone who loved to live - and lead his life freely.

There was an annoyed sigh behind him, but Lance could pick up the fondness in it. He didn’t need to turn around to know the affectionate look his brother had at the moment, he could picture it with his eyes closed. He still did it in one dramatic swoop just for contenance, facing his brother.

“Are you pouting?” Lance asked teasingly. “You know you didn’t have to follow me.”

The man behind him - Keith Kogane was standing tall and proud. His amethyst eyes - clear in the daylight despite the curtain of black hair swaying in front of them - were boring into Lance, but there was a certain softness underlined in them. It always came in whenever his brother was brought up in any shape or form.  
Puberty had been unfairly kinder to him in the form of thick muscles outlined well in his fitting leather clothes. Unfairly kind indeed to Lance’s own tastes - along with the fact Keith loved to rub it in any chance he got. 

Keith clicked his tongue, clearing his throat. “I wouldn’t want to leave you alone in the wild so soon.”

Lance frowned, sticking his tongue out at him. “I can take care of myself just fine”, he huffed.

Keith snorted in response. “Sure you do”, he shook his head. Lance continued to stare at him until Keith raised his hands in mock surrender. “I just can’t be too far away from my dear baby brother for too long.”

Lance wrinkled his nose at him. “We’re not even that far apart! You’re only a few months older than me you ass!”

“Almost a full year” Keith replied with a smirk. “That’s still a lot to beat.” He ruffled Lance’s hair, who squawked in indignation.

Lance batted his hand away half-heartedly, playfully growling at Keith who replied in kind with a tinge of amusement. 

“I’ll show you ‘strong’ you cocky shit” Lance said confidently, a grin etched on his face. “You better fear my wrath, Keith!”

They began wrestling lightly on the spot, nipping and grabbing at each other, trying to gain control. Lance gave a flick to Keith’s nose, who huffed at it before trapping Lance in a headlock and messing his hair some more.

“No!” Lance cried out with a laugh. He struggled against Keith’s hold but the other didn’t budge. Instead, his arms went to his waist, effectively trapping Lance.

“What’s that? Sorry I thought I heard something about ‘showing me your strength’?” Keith nuzzled at Lance’s hair before rubbing his cheeks against his neck with a smile.

“I yield!” Lance continued to laugh as he instinctually relaxed into Keith’s hold, feeling satiated.

The thunk of his sunglasses falling to the ground brought them back to their surroundings, signaling Keith to let go.

“Oh hell no” Lance cried out. “You better hope they’re not broken or I’ll have your ass Keith!”

He glared at him while he went to retrieve his sunglasses, Keith rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck while whistling a little tone, feigning innocence.

“Hey, it’s you who asked for a fight” he mumbled.

Lance threw him a heated look, baring his teeth - making his brother tense at the display. Then just like that, he deflated with a sigh. “You’re lucky they don’t have a single scratch.”

At that, Keith dropped the act, seemingly allowed to relax. He rolled his shoulders with a sigh as Lance stretched beside him loudly.

Lance went to the car, opening the trunk and looking at their bagages. There was quite the handful, and he already felt tired at the thought of having to move them all the way to their dorm room. “Get your ass here and help me out, Keith!”

Keith came to assist Lance, lifting the heavier things with a grunt.

They spent half an hour unloading Lance’s car, gathering their stuff together in a growing pile, before starting to put them in their assigned dorm room. Lance wiped the sweat off his forehead, taking a breath. The air got stuck in his throat as a shiver unwillingly made its way up his spine. Keith had tensed next to him for a few seconds, momentarily stopping in his tracks before putting down the box he was carrying.

“Lance” Keith called for his name with an edge to his voice his brother knew all too well. They had an unwanted audience in their little moment. They made an effort not to tense at the weighted stare driving holes through them, but the atmosphere became frigid nonetheless.

Lance quickly casted a glance towards the source of this ambient change, making sure to be sneaky about it.

The creature was blending in the shadows, but Lance could see its outline. A vampire, he deduced. His senses hadn’t failed him for a long time now, and the bloodlust permeating the air was unmistakable.

He did not intend to hunt so soon after moving out, but he didn’t think the vampire would let him much of a choice. Besides, the vampire seemed to have targeted him, boring its malicious eyes on Lance’s form.

Before long, the creature disappeared from view, but its presence remained, making him all too aware.

Throughout the rest of the day, Lance could feel someone’s stare chilling his back, contrasting with his brother’s warm gaze.

* * *

The car raced at a dangerous pace through dark alleys dimly lit by street lamps. A dark humanoid silhouette moved fluidly merging with the shadows as it ran with inhuman speed ahead of it.

Lance frowned, his temples glistening with sweat in intense concentration. He pushed even harder on the accelerator, maneuvering his car with deft hands. He put great efforts focusing on his surroundings while tracking down his target, trying not to crash into walls or any objects that posed a threat.

The vampire was doing his best to lose him in the streets, taking sharp turns and attempting to merge with the shadows. It was all in vain though, Lance’s attention remaining on the creature with nearly unblinking eyes. 

Years of experience came in handy to navigate through unknown territories in deep obscurity, his senses and acute vision as sharp as they’ll ever be. Skills that would be greatly needed tonight as, while the vampire wasn’t too much of a challenge, this chase proved to be a risky hassle with each passing minute.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, gritting his teeth as his car swayed dangerously with another 90° turn, threatening to roll over. The vampire continued to run, shooting up a tight dark path. Not wanting to afford losing his prey, Lance pushed down harder on the accelerator, squinting at the moving shadow.

With his eyes trained on the creature on the loose, all his attention zeroed solely away from any potential danger that may arise.

In a white flash, a beast surged suddenly in front of the car, too quick to be avoided.

Lance didn’t even have time to scream. The car collided with the running beast, bodywork crunching in a loud creaking sound of twisting metal. It bent under the impact with the full weight of the wild animal. The windshield shattered, breaking glass echoing in the night, shards cutting at Lance as his body went flying forward. His head forcefully hit the wheel, knocking him out cold as his vision threatened to fade into darkness.

Lance blinked, shaking the fog that veiled his thoughts and chasing away the black spots in his eyesight. He waited a few seconds, stuck in a dazed state. It all happened so fast. He’s sure he crashed into a white beast - was it a wild wolf?

Suddenly, searing pain overcame his system. He bit his lower lip, digging his canine in the plump flesh hard enough to draw blood, muffling his upcoming scream. He whimpered in distress instead, stinging tears burning his eyes. Then just as strongly as it came, it dulled enough for him to move. He tested his reflexes, doing a quick once over to rule out any ruptured nerve ending or broken bones.

As quickly as his condition could allow, he exited his car. He had to bust the door open with a good kick, but other than a wince of pain, he didn’t get too hurt. At least no bones broke with the movement.

As soon as he was out - despite how much he loved his car, he went to look for the beast. He was sure to find a beaten up corpse, and he winced at the thought of the broken limbs and the blood matted fur he’ll have to lay his eyes on. The imagery was unbearable to him. He’s seen the dent the impact left on the front of his vehicle - the shock has been violent. No regular wild animal could survive it, even a sturdy wolf.

All of those concerns left his head as he took in the sight of what hit his car. Contrary to what he was thinking, it was anything but a wolf. A man was laying on the road, utterly _naked._ He didn’t look hurt - there were no broken bones, no traces of an eventual car accident. Only a thin trail of blood was dripping below a shock of white hair, a bruise forming on the stranger’s side. And a gash on his nose, most likely from a glass shard. 

He didn’t look like he belonged there.

The scene seemed so surreal Lance almost wanted to laugh. Almost, until the stranger opened his eyes. Blinding gold shone under the dim night lights.

Immediately, Lance took out his light handgun, focusing on the man before him. No, _werewolf_. He hadn’t seen it before, with the crazed haze of the situation, but fur was sticking out in places on the man’s... _naked_ form. Lance tried to will away his blush at the sight of bare abs glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, bulging muscles flexing as the stranger rose slightly on his hands.

“Don’t move” Lance hissed through his teeth.

The werewolf looked at him with confusion, the gun going unnoticed by him. He seemed stunned, but didn’t appear to be as dazed as Lance was.

Lance cocked his gun, aiming right at the man’s heart. “If you dare to do anything, I’ll shoot.”

That’s when the odd guy finally understood the situation he was in. “Please, don’t shoot.” A low, gravely voice replied to him, the tone gentle despite the panic reflected in the honey colored irises. Lance repressed a shiver crawling up his spine.

“Give me a reason not to.”

“I mean no harm”, the stranger said, raising his hands in surrender with a low hiss. 

Lance relaxed slightly, but his gun stayed firmly in place. The stranger sounded sincere, but the hunter would need more than this if he was to let him off the hook.

“State your business then, big guy. No wrong move!”

The man shook his head, his eyes wild. “Wait! I swear I’m not up to anything.”

Lance barked out a laugh. “Yeah right, you’re telling me you were doing your little midnight jog? No one runs at full speed in the streets so late at night! Let alone naked, unless you’re a huge pervert and a fucking weirdo.”

“No one drives at full speed in dark alleys around midnight either” the man counters. 

Lance frowned further, sniffing haughtily to try willing away his blush of embarrassment at being caught head-on. Why was he even getting embarrassed in the first place? “I had good reasons to do this, the situation called for it.”

“Recklessness and lack of self-preservation?” the stranger deadpanned.

“Hey I’m not reckless,” Lance called, “I prefer the term _daring_.”

The man sighed, giving him an unimpressed look. “It all amounts to thoughtless idiocy when it combines with your eventual death.”

“You-” Lance began in offense, “I’m not an idiot!”

Now the hunter really considered shooting him. If the werewolf was actually trying to convince him otherwise, then he was doing a shit job at it.

The other seemed to realize it too as his shoulders grew tense in response to the hostility, but he continued to speak nonetheless, seemingly carried on by his own sense of morality.

“I believe this was irresponsible, yes” he began, “but far from me the idea of calling you an idiot.”

Lance had to gather all his willpower not to pull the trigger. He really felt like this stranger was making a fool out of him. “You just mentioned idiocy-”

“There’s a nuance between “idiocy” and “idiot” you see” the other cut in. 

The hunter gawked at him, wide eyes full of disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

The werewolf stared back with the same dubiousness. “No?”

A little silence followed. Lance felt like laughing and crying at the same time for some reason. “Are you...aware of the situation you’re in?”

“Held at gunpoint by a supernatural hunter?” Okay, so he was very aware. 

“Yeah, that” Lance said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. At least, the other had the decency to look bashful, cheeks reddening slightly. It caught Lance’s gaze, the light blushing a nice contrast with the man’s pale complexion. He tore his eyes away from it with some efforts.

But then his stare drifted downwards, grazing over muscled abs before seeing the peak of a happy trail and...he looked up again, trying to ignore the raising heat to his own cheeks.

This was the second time now. Lance did his best staying focused on the werewolf’s eyes instead, shining a bright golden hue. But it was as if they called to him, a far cry of something that filled Lance with many emotions he couldn’t begin to identify. 

“Are you going to shoot?” The stranger’s question broke through the haze that had settled over Lance’s mind. “If not, could you please put the gun down?”

Lance stares at him with evident distrust, but there was a shift in his stance. “How can I believe you wouldn’t attack me or anyone else after?” He asked, willing his voice to sound stern and commanding.

The man chuckles lightly. Lance could barely believe his audacity. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” he said. Lance bit back the _yeah, you shouldn’t_ resting on the tip of his tongue. The stranger continued with a more serious tone. “In all the time we talked, I could have harmed you and killed you.”

“And I should believe you?” Lance huffed. It’s not like the stranger could do much with a gun cocked in his direction. But he did have a point, he could have tried catching Lance by surprise throughout their argument and at least incapacitate him. Yet, the werewolf stood still, waiting at the mercy of Lance’s hands and forgiveness.

Those were acts that spoke lots about the person facing him. And now, the hunter was beginning to hesitate. Ever so slightly, his hands started to shake on the gun - despite all the practice he’s got on the line.

Lance subconsciously sought out the stranger’s gaze. His breath was stolen away in the same instant.

“Please, I mean no harm.” Those irises which shone like the moon, so cold and so distant at all times, spoke a warm truth. “I swear on my life I won’t attack you or anyone. I don’t kill humans.” The stranger’s voice was steady and firm as he went on. “If I were to ever break this promise, shall we meet again, you may end my life on the spot.”

Those final words shook Lance to the core. Despite his senses being on high alert, and how this guy oozed danger, he wanted to believe in him.

The disarming honesty in the way this stranger held himself and the genuineness in his stare was enough to make Lance doubt.

He slowly lowered his gun with hesitant eyes. 

The stranger waited with bated breath, keeping watch of Lance’s every move until the gun hung loose in the hunter’s hand. 

He rose carefully from the ground without taking his eyes away. Lance didn’t move, not daring to break eye contact. They shared a wordless moment like this, and he almost thought the other would break his promise. He didn't move nonetheless, trusting the weight of this stranger's words.

The werewolf suddenly turned tail, quickly getting away from the situation. He threw one last look over his shoulder, eyes burning with amber flames as they bore through Lance. Then, in a flash of white, he was gone. 

The man vanished into the night. 

He looked at the spot where the werewolf disappeared for a few long minutes, dazed. This had all felt like a dream. Yet it was far from it.

He did shed a few tears at the poor state of his car. This was his precious baby.

Then he was hit with a sudden wave of fatigue. He couldn’t stay on his feet for long. 

Keith. He needed to call Keith.

With shaky fingers, he attempted to retrieve his phone, feeling around in his pockets in search of the item. At the same time, he prayed to all the gods that it was still operational. Finally, his hand closed on cold metal and he nearly released a relieved sigh.

He fished out his phone, holding it at face-level. Amazingly enough, the screen didn’t have a single crack. He hoped his phone wouldn’t slip out of his weak grasp. He tightened his hand around it as an afterthought.

The device lit up under his trembling fingers. It was a miracle. 

He went through his contact list, quickly tapping Keith’s icon. When the dial noises rang out as the call connected, Lance finally allowed himself to ease up a bit. He didn’t relax until he could hear the telltale sound of the call being picked up.

“Lance?” He released a relieved breath when his ears picked up Keith’s raspy voice on the other end. His brother didn’t sound that much tired despite the texture of his voice though. Another one of those sleepless nights, perhaps. “Wha- why are you calling me at this hour?”

Lance hesitated. Keith would definitely worry, but it’s not like he could do anything about it. He didn’t know the area he was in, wasn’t sure if there was a hotel nearby. And he couldn’t abandon his car here, but he couldn’t sleep inside it. The vampire had favored shady alleys and now that the rush of the chase had run down, he could feel how oppressive his surroundings were, swallowed by darkness.

It reminded him of memories he did not want to think about. Things he did not want to remember, better left alone in the corner of his mind.

“...Lance?”

Keith’s concerned voice brought him back to reality. He finally noticed how loud his breathing had gone. “Ah, yeah…” He tried to calm down but couldn’t suppress the shake in his voice. “Can you come pick me up?” 

Immediately Keith was on high alert, his voice coming out stronger from the phone. “Did something happen during the hunt?”

Lance considered that telling Keith what happened now would probably be a bad idea. He didn’t want to send his brother in a frenzy and he didn’t want to have Keith fret over him or treat him like a defenseless kid. 

Hiding the full truth would also be a mistake though, considering how Keith could be. In the end, he decided to settle for a semblance of truth with a lot of omissions. “There has been an accident, yeah,” he began and he could hear the answering hitch in his brother’s breathing, “but nothing too severe! Don’t worry, I’m safe! I-”

“Tell me where you are right now!”

Lance winced. Well, that didn’t work. “Hey calm down, I just need a ride.” He instantly shut his mouth, berating himself in his mind. Obviously, that wasn’t the right thing to say. Keith knew all too well his deep attachment for his car. And Keith knew he took it for tonight’s hunt. If he wasn’t already worried, then he’ll sure as hell be up and about now.

“What the fuck happened?!”

Lance drew in a breath, grimacing. “I huh...happened to run into a situation and...my baby Blue wasn’t as lucky as me?” He kept his tone light to downplay the gravity of his current state.

Colorful swears could be heard on the other end before Keith spoke again. “You’re impossible.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen for you information. And I swear it’s not that bad” Lance argued. Just as he said this, his nose began dripping with what he assumed was blood, and he finally took into account the stickiness running on the side of his temple. When he pressed his hand to the wet spot before holding it up to his eyes, his palm came back _red_. He inhaled shakily. Well, that explained the dizziness and headaches.

“Are you bleeding?” Keith’s voice was laced with worry. 

“No…?” Lance said in the least convincing way possible, even he doubted he’d believe it. Neither did Keith it seems.

More curses ensued. “Okay, I’m coming over. Don’t do anything stupid, get in a safe place and don’t fucking move. And don’t fall asleep.”

“What? But Keith I haven’t even told you-”

“It’s fine” his brother cut in.

“But you don’t even know-”

“It’s okay I don’t need it” Keith replied, “I’ll find you either way.”

“But-”

“I’m coming.”

“Keith-”

“Don’t move. Stay where you are.” Then the line went dead.

Lance stared at his phone, baffled. Okay then.

He sat down on the pavement, unable to stay upright any longer, laying his back against a lamp post, waiting silently for his brother.

His eyes drifted back to the place where the werewolf had laid. Like fate, he was bound to look this way, unable to tear his gaze from the bare spot. Even though he wasn’t there, he could still see the picture the man depicted, moonlight like a halo shining over his face. And his body itched to come closer, his fingers to reach and touch the illusion. 

Somehow, his instincts told him that this wasn’t the end of it. And deep inside, despite his better judgement, he hoped for it.

When Keith got on the crash scene with his bike, Lance deemed himself prepared enough to face his ire. His brother didn’t wait to provide it. His eyes went comically wide as he took in Lance’s destroyed car before landing on Lance - getting impossibly wider in the process. The hunter wanted to laugh although the situation didn’t call for it right now. In fact, he was pretty sure Keith would strangle him if he dared.

He smiled nervously although it looked more like a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before wincing.

Keith tracked his movements with razor sharp eyes.

Lance could feel his burning furry radiating from here. His eyes seemed to get darker as his mouth twisted in an angry scowl. There was a murderous glint in his pupils.

“What the hell happened to your car” Keith growled out darkly. It wasn’t a question, didn’t sound like one in the least. A simple and yet dangerous order that came out through gritted teeth. He didn’t yell (most likely his brother was trying to keep himself from making a scene although he was dying to do it), but Lance felt the overwhelming pressure behind his words, Keith’s voice rough and commanding.

He wanted answers. And Lance, for once, didn’t want to give them to him. Not that he could technically do it even if he wanted to. He had no idea what to say, couldn’t even begin to believe what happened himself. 

“Well, you see,” he chuckled anxiously, “it’s kind of a funny story.”

Keith’s brows furrowed further. Lance backtracked, gulping nervously. Yeah, humor wouldn’t cut it right now.

Then, to Lance’s surprise, Keith deflated. He picked up a first aid kit from the backpack Lance hadn't noticed he was carrying. He quickly made his way over to Lance, setting the medical kit down before checking him over for any hidden injuries. Despite the fact Lance could tell he was seething with anger, Keith was gentle in his motions, making sure not to hurt Lance.

Lance let himself be handled around, wincing at times when Keith was a bit too rough, to which his brother answered with soft rumbles, soothing Lance’s nerves.

With careful fingers, he treated Lance’s wounds, wrapping his head with gauze. He worked quietly, the silence only broken by Lance’s soft whimpers and Keith’s rumbled whispers of encouragements and sweet nothings.

Once he was done patching Lance up, he looked at him inquisitively, silently asking if he had any other injuries he wasn’t aware of, to which Lance shook his head negatively. Keith’s eyes, which had softened upon seeing Lance hurt and treating his injuries, hardened into a fierce glare.

They had a stare-down, looking defiantly at each other. On one side, Keith who was obviously trying to understand what happened, trying to put the pieces together and waiting for his brother’s explanations; on the other side, Lance who did not want to speak and looked apprehensively at Keith, gauging his reaction with worried eyes.

Keith seemed to understand that this was not a conversation Lance was ready for at this time of night, especially in this state. At last, he turned around, effectively breaking eye contact.

With a long sigh, he went to retrieve his second helmet, handing it to Lance. “Come here, I’ll take you back to my dorm.”

The hunter looked at him incredulously. “Just like that? You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“Don’t push your luck” Keith growled out. “We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow (Lance gulped at that), but you clearly need to rest right now.”

Lance chose wisely not to protest. He took the helmet from Keith’s outstretched hand.

Keith picked up a black veil from his backpack, stomping over to the car and covering it quickly with the piece of cloth. After he concealed Lance’s baby as best as he could, he turned around and faced his brother, worry etched on his face. “Will you be okay to ride?”

Lance quickly assessed his current state, doing a full onceover. Deeming himself safe to go, he gave Keith the go ahead sign, offering him a shaky yet reassuring smile. Immediately, Keith sighed in relief. Then, he gestured at Lance to come.

“Hop on” he ordered sternly.

Lance didn’t make him wait, climbing on the motorcycle and holding onto Keith as best as he could. Keith made sure that Lance was fine before revving the engine.

Right after that, they were gone, speeding away in the streets as quietly as possible and Lance felt like he could finally breathe. He inhaled the warm scent of Keith, smokey and comforting with a slight floral undertone, unconsciously clinging tighter to the leather jacket clenched between his fingers.

Keith’s back vibrated against his chest and he felt himself slip into a state of relaxation and ease, roaring mind lulled to a rest. 

A few moments passed before they reached Altea University, the white building standing out on the dark panorama, lighten up with street lights and the garden lamps scattered around the campus. Keith gently shook Lance until the hunter snapped back into focus, taking in their new surroundings.

Keith helped him get off the bike, despite Lance’s little growls of annoyance. He went to carry him, but this time Lance outright snapped, threatening to bite him if he ever so much as tried to lift him a mere centimeter off the ground, so he graciously offered his shoulder as support instead.

This compromise didn’t last long. Lance’s legs gave out and he nearly collapsed face first on the way to the dorms. Keith quickly picked him up, not losing any time as he picked him up by the knees. Lance went boneless as his head pressed into the crook of Keith’s neck.

“I’m gonna carry you to my room” Keith rumbled.

Lance lifted his head to look at him through lidded eyes. “Don’t you have a roommate though?”

Keith shushed him. “It’s fine.”

Lance didn’t question further, relaxing into the hold instead. They made the rest of the way to the dorms like that, Lance slumped in Keith’s arms, who walked at a steady pace. When they reach the doors though, Keith has to let Lance go, settling him down on the ground and helping him walk down the hallways.

Just as they were nearing the door to Keith’s dorm room, Lance stopped in his tracks. Keith halted as well, looking at Lance in response. His brother was fidgeting.

“You sure your roommate won’t mind?” Lance asked. 

Keith shook his head with a sigh. “He’s not here right now.”

Once he was safe in his brother’s dorm room, pressed against each other under Keith’s warm blanket, he let himself relax and fell into a deep slumber, haunted by gold eyes and the distant, fuzzy memory of black furr.

* * *

He was woken up the following morning by the sound of shuffling. When he came to, he was hit by the feeling of coldness sipping through his skin. He shifted around, burrowing deeper into the blankets, taking into account the blank spot left in his brother’s place. He mumbled in discontent, missing the comfortable warmth. Keith was a great body heater, it wasn’t rare for Lance to snuggle against him in a shared bed during winter.

He could almost believe he was still in their sweet home, Keith making (and most likely failing) breakfast with their dad downstairs - being too distracted by his animated talks over cryptids, their mom trying to help out before being ultimately shooed away from the kitchen. A sweet aroma prickled at his nose, the delicious smell of freshly baked cookies permeating the air.

More shuffling snapped his attention. The illusion faded away as he began to recall where he was, the events from the night before progressively coming back to him. He popped his head out from his nest of blankets, blinking the sleep out of his bleary eyes.

Slowly, he got himself accustomed to his new surroundings. His gaze skimmed around the room in search of the noises he previously heard. It landed on a stranger, standing on the other side of the dorm room. 

“Oh sorry, did I wake you up?” The gentle tone and sunny smile the stranger addressed him was enough to reassure Lance. 

“Are you Keith’s roomie?”

The other laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m Hunk Garett” he replied lightly.

“Hunk?” Lance bounced back immediately. He quirked a brow as said Hunk fidgeted bashfully.

“Ah, don’t take it too seriously, it’s not my real name” he replied with an awkward laugh. “I’m just used to this.”

Lance laughed in return. “Hunk, huh? That’s quite fitting. I can see why people would call you that, with all my compliments.” He relishes in the bright blush he gets in answer, Hunk seemingly trying to disappear, which is quite the struggle considering his stature. “I hope I’ll have the privilege to learn your name one day.”

“Don’t worry, you’re bound to deserve this honor if you stick around long enough.” Hunk says, and Lance chuckles. “You must be Keith’s brother, Lance right?”

Oh yeah, now that he thinks about it, Lance had forgotten to introduce himself. Unforgivable of him, he must say. “Yup, that’s me” Lance answered with an easy smile. “Hope my bro didn’t scare you, he tends to be a bit growly and he’s known to freak people out.”

“Oof yeah, he did give me a heart attack the first time I saw him, but he seems nice” Hunk tells him, and he sounds actually _genuine_. Lance’s smile broadened.

“I assume you’re looking for him right now, no?” At Lance’s nod, he sighed with a smile. “He had to leave for his first class but he didn’t want to wake you. He left a note on the desk table.”

As he said it, Lance’s eyes drifted on his side and yes, there’s indeed a crumbled slip of paper he hadn’t noticed before, casually laying on the cold surface. Hasty letters were written on it. Keith was probably late and threw down his words without a second thought for the messy scrawl; he was thoughtful like this, not wanting to worry Lance even at the expense of his studies or peaceful sleep.

And a heavy sleeper - though Lance did tear him out of his slumber.

Lance wasn’t surprised when he felt himself smiling down at the note with warm fondness. He nearly startled when he heard the other man (who he almost forgot the presence) clear his throat next to him.

“You’re new here right?”

“Yeah, we only just arrived like, yesterday - on campus, I mean” Lance said with a hum. “I don’t really know what’s around to be honest, didn’t have time to visit the place.”

“Do you want me to show you around the place? I can give you a tour” Hunk suggested amiably.

Lance looked at him in surprise. “You don’t have classes right now?”

The other shook his head, laughing lightly. “Nope, not yet. There was a mistake in my schedule, so I’m just hanging around here.”

Lance considered the offer. It wasn’t a bad deal; Altea university was quite huge, so he’d do good using the help and getting familiar with his new surroundings. But there was the detail about his car abandoned in the shady alleyway from the night prior as well as the resulting damages coming from this very night out, and he grimaced - something that did not go amiss.

“Bad timing?” Hunk asked kindly.

Lance nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I may have to pass up on it.” He flashed an apologetic smile at Hunk, who only grinned in return.

“It’s all good!” He replied with a shake of his head. “I can be your guide another day. This week’s gonna be pretty chill, so you’ll probably find time for it.”

“Sure thing!” Lance purred happily.

Hunk checked his phone then paled. He hurried over to the wardrobe next to his bed, throwing it open to hastily put on a jacket before pocketing the device.

Lance looked at him questioningly. “I thought you didn’t have classes” he couldn’t help but say.

Hunk chuckled nervously. “Oh I don’t! I have a meeting with a friend though and they’d kill me if I’m late.”

Lance arched his brow. “For real?”

“Yeah” Hunk breathed out. “Sorry Lance, I can’t stay much longer. Oh I almost forgot, you can help yourself with the cookies on my desk if you’re hungry. See you around!”

Hunk threw a smile over his shoulder and left quickly after in a flurry of movements. Lance stared at his empty spot for a few more seconds. He shook his head before groaning at the movement, vision blurring lightly. He should probably lay low today. How late was it anyway?

His hand patted the mattress in search of his cellphone which he found quickly enough. He groaned at the time displayed on the lit screen. Twelve hours. He slept through the whole morning and lunchtime. 

Forget about laying low, Lance thought. No wonder Keith was already in class. 

He grumbled as he attempted detangling himself from the bed sheets - a long process followed with lots of curses. When he finally managed to release himself from the blanket, feet grounded on the floor, he thought about his current priorities.

First, he should check his car. He did leave it in the same spot than before for lack of better choice. He was admittedly worried about it, remembering the state it was left in and how shady the place had been, hoping nobody trashed it even further.

But he still hasn’t gotten into his own dorm room and unpacked all his stuff, having gone straight for the hunt - which had proven to be unsuccessful on that matter, so he may have to go again with Keith this time around.

He thought it over, pondering on the best things to do. Getting to his car would take a lot of time seeing as he’ll be on foot. He could borrow Keith’s motorcycle but his brother probably had the keys, and Lance didn’t think he was in a good enough state to ride the bike - not without assistance at least. And Keith was currently attending his lessons. Lance did not want to bother him (even though he knew his brother would come running either way).

Which leaves the next best thing: getting comfy in his assigned room.

He stretched with a long sigh, wincing as his muscles throbbed in protest. His body ached all over, pain shooting up his nerves with every movement. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t go hunting so soon after his accident. Keith would probably disagree anyway, and he knew him to be stubborn.

The other wouldn’t go above staying up all night guarding his door (speaking from experience). And he always seemed to know when Lance was up for trouble.

At least, the pain was manageable and it didn’t flare as badly as the moment that followed the crash. He didn’t have to add scratches and bites to his wounds either. He could deem himself “lucky” in that sense. The thought pulled a bitter smile out of him.

He made his way over to his dorm room on wobbly legs. A sigh of relief went past his lips once he reached it. He slowly opened the door, peering into the room. Not a living soul in here.

He cautiously stepped inside, closing the door shut behind him. It was pretty simple and somewhat minimalist in terms of furniture, but comfortable and spacious. The walls were a dark grey topped with a white parquet. All furnitures were a creamy color, contrasting with the dark wallpaper.

A large window sat on the wall across from him, drawing light in the room through fluttery curtains. The window’s ledge was large enough to curl up on it and nestle there during rainy days, making Lance smile appreciatively. 

Two beds were set on each side of it, facing each other with a dresser put next to them. Bare shelves rested on the walls atop them. On each corner of the room stood two large wardrobes and desks for both occupants of the room. 

There was a little side-corridor right to his left with another door, no doubt leading to an adjacent bathroom.

Lance took notice that the beds were neat and tidy, wardrobes surely as empty as the shelves, the room pristine clean and bare of any signs of life; all of which meant that his roommate hadn’t been there yet, and he was probably the first one to set foot in their new living space. 

As he walked in further, he nearly stumbled on the boxes full of junk Keith and him had set there the day before, laying untouched on a black rug. Well, that confirmed his growing suspicion.

Without further ado, Lance set to work. 

Considering his current situation, he decided to only take care of unpacking his clothes, everything else seeming like an insurmountable task. He’d save the rest of his junk left for later, when he’d be able to lift things without feeling like his arms would break or fall off.

As he began arranging his clothes in his wardrobe, he began thinking about last night’s events. Most specifically, the doomed meeting - since it doomed his car and almost got him as well.

He let his mind wander freely as he mused over the werewolf’s current whereabouts. The golden eyes still shining bright in his mind, entrancing, alluring. There was something about those that caught his attention, striking a cord inside Lance that sounded a bit odd but somewhat familiar.

He was inexorably drawn to those two sparkling flames, flickering with emotions and an intensity that seared through his mind. Warmth spread in his body at the thought of those eyes set on him. Instantly, he felt red hot shame coursing through him.

Here he was, daydreaming about the enemy. Was it daydreaming? But he couldn’t deny that his thoughts were plagued with those stupid golden eyes.

Just then he felt great fatigue pulling at his sore arms. He snapped out of his thoughts, noticing that he’s been standing there, all clothes tucked neatly in his wardrobe. His body throbbed again with urgency and he groaned, holding in a whimper.

Best to take a rest now.

Lance carefully laid down on the bed, closing his eyes. He had only meant to relax and take it easy for a few minutes, but instead found himself dozing off. Quickly enough, sleep embraced him.

He was woken up from his nap by laughter outside his own dorm. He huffed in discontent, pawing at the bedsheets. When he got his phone, he quickly checked the time again. He cursed at his discovery. He had a 3 hours long nap instead of 30 minutes of a well deserved rest. Keith had sent him a message.

His brother. He had to find him. He rose from the bed, ready to go look for Keith. 

The door swung open just at this moment. Lance turned around with curiosity, a friendly greeting sitting on the tip of his tongue; and froze.

No way. His life was a fucking sketch. It had to be a comedy. And the whole audience was laughing at Lance right now.

Standing before him was a man with hair and skin a startling white. Tall, bulky and looking like he could benchpress three Lance, square jaw and sharp eyes; the pink scar across his nose only served in making him hotter.

The only difference was his irises, a beautiful anthracite that threatened to burn him were he to stare too long at them. And the fact that he was wearing clothes - memories of a bare torso and chiseled muscles flashed before his eyes. 

Lance felt himself blushing brightly.

“You!” he shrieked.

Standing there was the naked man from the night before. Seeing at how wide his eyes were, he seemed just as surprised to see Lance here. His lips parted slightly as he remained frozen, his massive form cut in the entryway. “Y-you…” he stuttered.

There was an awkward silence. At an utter loss for words, they both remained motionless, seemingly stricken by the absurdity of the surreal situation. Then Lance jerked to his feet, getting ready to either bolt or attack. “Naked weirdo!”

The guy flinched, a light tint of red dusting his cheeks. “I’m not a weirdo,” he protested. His vehemence seemed genuine. Still, Lance didn’t budge.

“I’m not talking to weird men going around naked at unholy hours in the streets.”

“It’s not like that” the other said, the flush deepening on his cheeks. His brows were furrowed in consternation and annoyance. He seemed to make great efforts at avoiding to look him in the eye. Something he greatly failed to do as they were quite literally the only two persons in the room. A very bare room.

“Then explain it to me, I’m sure the story will be up to my expectations” Lance bit back.

The guy stared incredulously at him. “I’m a werewolf,” he deadpanned. 

Lance pretended to cheer, clapping his hands sarcastically. “Wow, I’d never have guessed!” He raised a brow, cocking his hip with a hand. “Where did all that eloquence go? This doesn’t explain shit.”

“When werewolves transform, we’re usually naked.” The stranger fidgeted as he said it.

“Lies!” Lance exclaimed. The other man gave him the look you’d send to a madman. “I’ve seen werewolves before and they had clothes on after reverting into humans.”

Admittedly he hadn’t seen them _during_ the transformation. But he had chased some in wolf forms before and when he closed in on them seconds later, they popped out of their hiding places fully dressed. It had to mean something - it was impossible to put on clothes at such a speed. Lance was therefore convinced werewolves spawned fully clothed in 15 seconds.

The stranger gawked at him. “What? It’s not true!” He retorted. “I was in the woods in the first place!”

“You’re telling me you’re some kind of axe-chopping murderer running bare in the woods?” The man spluttered, his face turning red with either embarrassment or anger, Lance couldn’t tell. 

“I’m not a murderer or any kind of creep hiding naked in the trees!” The man claimed loudly. He looked like he was about to say more - or bash Lance’s head open, he didn’t know - before he paused. Straightening up, he took deep breaths, seemingly trying to reign himself back. “I think we strayed a bit too far. My name’s Takashi Shirogane, but you may call me Shiro.”

“Giving me your name before trying to kill me? That’s classy. Now, where’s the axe?”

“I’m not going to kill you” the man - _Shiro_ cried out, looking like he was, in fact, seconds away from strangling Lance. “Stop saying that! I already told you I don’t kill humans.”

“Right.” _Can never be too sure_ , he’d wanted to say, but he held his tongue. Shiro already looked worked up over this, and Lance did feel bad at the hurt that had flashed through anthracite eyes at his acidic words. “...I’m Lance” he ultimately added after a long silence. “Lance Kogane.”

Shiro relaxed slightly at that. It wasn’t a peace offering though. Was he aware of it? And what was he even doing here?

“Wait…” Lance paled as he was hit with a sudden realization. He had a startling inkling on the reason for Shiro’s presence. He’d briefly seen the name of his assigned roommate in one of the papers given to him at the university’s reception. He’d barely glanced at it, but Shiro’s name rang familiar. Could it be…“Shit, are you my roommate?”

Shiro nodded, smiling lightly. Lance felt cold sweat breaking down his back. Oh, this was bad. He’d insulted the guy, tried to shoot him, and now this. There was no way his life wasn’t a joke. Electricity crackled in the air as they stared at each, shifting uncomfortably.

“Why don’t we have a talk?” Shiro ended up suggesting. 

“Alone with you?” Lance sneered. “Excuse me _sir_ , I don’t master dumbassery.” 

Shiro’s tentative smile faded instantly, but he didn’t depart from his imperturbable calm, voice remaining a gentle lull. “I meant it as having a nice coffee in an enjoyable and public place.”

Lance considered him. He thought of the current options at his disposal. On one hand, this seemed kind of stupid to accept as this man was afterall a werewolf and trashed his car (okay it was an accident but the hunter still held that to heart) - it went against all principles and rules regarding the ‘shadow world’, that magical realm beyond humanity.

But at the same time, the man kept on his promise. Even now when they’re still somewhat alone, he didn’t attack him - and perhaps it’s because they’re in broad daylight, but the sincerity in his words and the disarming honesty in his eyes and tone struck something in Lance, lulling him into a sense of security. And Lance praised himself on his instincts.

Besides, they wouldn’t be by themselves. Shiro had swore it would be in a comfortably crowded environment. The promise of coffee at the end was what finally won him over.

“ _V_ _ery_ public” Lance conceded. He frowned just to make his point across.

Shiro only smiled.

\----

10 minutes later, Lance was slurping down his caramel latte filled with sugar, topped with whipped cream sprinkled with dozens of colorful confettis. Shiro stared at his drink with a mix of horror and fascination, concealed by his fringe and furrowed brows.

“Isn’t that a bit too much?”

“What?” Lance looked at him doubtfully.

He made a vague gesture in allusion to Lance’s drink. “...Sugar.”

“Listen here wolfy, there’s no true college student experience without sugar addiction.”

“I thought the real college experience was overdosing on caffeine.”

“That too but eeew” Lance emphasized the ‘eeew’ for good measures, “Who drinks coffee like this? I swear, people who drink their coffee black without the tiniest amount of sugar have no soul.”

“I happen to enjoy it,” Shiro says, imperturbable.

“That’s what I’m telling ya. No soul at all” Lance drawled out.

He swore he could see the shadow of a smile when he looked Shiro’s way, hidden behind his cup of steaming coffee. Lance slurped down his drink viciously in return. 

A silence settled between them, only disturbed by Lance’s slurping. Shiro shifted a bit in his seat before leaning forward slightly, setting his cup on the table. “So...How did you become a hunter?”

Lance lifted his eyes from his own drink. “Already hitting with the serious questions?” he snorted, though it sounded more like a snarl. “You’re not beating around the bush, _Shiro_.” He emphasized his name, pronouncing it for the first time, his voice dripping with poisonous honey.

Shiro’s cheeks turned a light pink. He stammered on his next words before clearing his throat, regaining his composure. “Sorry, was I too forward?”

“Can’t say you weren’t.” Lance took another sip of his latte. Shiro’s eyes flashed with a flicker of gold as he held his stare for what felt like an eternity. He blinked and just like that, the illusion was gone, replaced by irises an anthracite grey. He turned around then, not wanting to face Shiro any longer. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Shiro offered him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” 

When Lance glanced back at him, he seemed to be doing his best holding in his curiosity. He decided to satisfy it a bit - as payback for not attacking him, of course.

“...It’s an old story I don’t want to recall and tell you right off the bat, a total stranger less alone in a cafe,” he began to say, rolling his eyes. “...though I don’t think I could even share it. Actually, I can’t remember it all, so there’s bound to be blank spots either way.” He added the last few words as an afterthought, so low he wasn’t sure Shiro ever heard him. Deep inside, he hoped Shiro didn’t.

The white haired man hummed. Lance was grateful he didn’t try to ask for further details. They stayed in a momentary silence, only interrupted by surroundings conversations or the sounds they made sipping down their drinks. Minutes stretched long between them as they avoided each other’s gaze, choosing to focus on their cups.

“So” Shiro broke the silence, “how old are you?”

Lance raised a brow, taken aback by the sudden question. “Seriously?” He smirked, all teeth and bite. “You started with a super private and invasive topic, and now you’re going for something mundane like my age?”

“Yeah? I, huh, thought it was a good start” Shiro said, playing with the cuffs of his jacket. Lance snorted in his cup, the sound loud and barely concealed. Shiro’s cheeks dusted a light pink as he pointedly avoided looking at him.

The brunet absentmindedly wondered if it would spring down to his chest. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts, feeling his consciousness slip into dangerous waters. “I’m 19 if you truly want to know,” Lance said as nonchalantly as he could, though it sounded more like a hiss.

“And here I thought you were 16” Shiro said dramatically, to which Lance replied with a resounding “Fuck you!”

Despite his dramatics, Lance noticed Shiro didn’t look at peace with this piece of information, a flurry of emotions flickering through his eyes.

“Why? Are you an old man?” Lance shot back without missing a bit. “Have I been talking to an old creep this whole time.”

Shiro grimaced at him. “Will you ever stop?”

“No, I don’t think I will. You did almost kill me after all, so you owe me that much” He pleasantly said in reply. He meant it as a jester, but the jab seemed to have hit its mark as Shiro flinched nonetheless. The white haired man went back to his cup, his face falling into a mixture of shame and defeat. He quickly recovered before Lance could change the topic though.

“I’m 22” he said, “not an old man.”

“Damn, and here I thought you would be a silver fox, white fringe and all.”

Shiro gave a startled laugh - to which Lance silently praised himself for, before telling himself that there was nothing to be happy about. “No I’m not, sorry to break your dreams.”

Lance glared at him. “Hey, who said I was into silver foxes?”

“Your obsession for my naked self” Shiro joked.

“It’s not an obsession!” Lance spluttered, feeling his head grow hot. “And don’t kid yourself, if anything you’re a himbo!”

“A himbo?”

“Yes!” Lance took deep breaths to calm himself, trying to will his blush away. This man was so infuriating, he managed to push all his buttons. It did not occur to him that Shiro was unaware of the meaning behind “himbo”. Not that it mattered to him. It _shouldn’t_ matter in the least. “What’s the story behind that fringe then? I don’t buy that it’s your natural hair color.”

“Ah…” Shiro tensed, not meeting Lance’s eyes. His hands tightened around his cup of coffee and for a second, Lance feared it would shatter in his white knuckled grip. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

Those were the words of a haunted soul. Lance softened, knowing the pain and the ugly memories crawling up your mind far too well. A cold shiver traveled up his spine. He lowered his face to his latte. “I won’t ask.”

“Thank you,” Shiro whispered, so low Lance almost didn’t hear him.

Lance kept his face angled down, not wanting to give Shiro the wrong idea. Or that’s what he told himself, unwilling to show his vulnerability as he felt darkness simmering in the back of his mind, shaking away the cold grip that threatened to sink his heart.

After that talk, they laid back in their seats, continuing to gulp down their drinks. There was a slightly awkward silence, but to Lance’s surprise, it _wasn’t_ unpleasant. In fact, as they setted in calm quietness disrupted by mindless idle chatter and small talk, he felt like he was enjoying himself.

Lance felt himself slipping into a comfortable headspace, relaxing ever so slightly, listening to Shiro’s low and smooth voice.

His phone buzzed on the table, breaking the moment. Lance picked it up, wincing as he read what was displayed on the screen. Shiro looked questioningly at him but wisely held his tongue.

“My brother” Lance said for all explanations. He quickly typed a reply to Keith’s message asking for his whereabouts, keeping as much details as possible from his answer. Better that Keith did not know about Shiro. It didn’t mean that Shiro couldn’t know about him, though.

“You have a brother?” Shiro inquired. 

Lance sighed. “Yeah. Very protective, and a himbo too” he added with a grin. He carefully kept from saying his name, unwilling to share that information.

Shiro stared at his - no doubt - fond expression. “It doesn’t seem to bother you as much as you let it on.”

“Only because he’s cute. Don’t be fooled though, he’s terrible. Most of the time, at least.” Just then he paused, noticing Shiro had gone quiet. Oh, he was beginning to rant. He clicked his mouth shut, coming close to biting his tongue. But Shiro was looking at him attentively, seeming to find whatever he said fascinating. Lance unconsciously put his hands to his cheeks, knuckles pressing against his lips.

“He sounds nice enough," Shiro said.

“He’s evil,” Lance retorted, then grinned. “In a good way. Or chaotic good.”

“How so?”

Lance hummed thoughtfully. “He would beat you to a pulp if he knew what happened though.” He paused, reconsidering. “Actually, _I_ should have beaten the shit out of you.” He heard Shiro gulp and kept himself from purring in satisfaction.

“I guess that’s fair,” Shiro replied. Then he bravely added, “You could do it now.”

How daring. Lance thought about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, sighing in disappointment. “No, I don’t think my body’s up for revenge, sadly. I’ll give you retribution later.”

His phone lit up again with Keith’s own reply. When he saw Shiro peering down at the screen in curiosity, he hissed at him, slapping his hand on the device. The white haired man backed up instantly.

Instead, Shiro took out his own phone, and jerked in surprise. Lance raised a brow, staring at him questioningly. “Something wrong?”

“It’s getting quite late.”

The brunet checked the time on his phone and found Shiro was right. They were nearing the evening, only two hours away. He didn’t think that he’d spend such a long time here - not that he would admit to anyone he hadn’t seen time pass. This did not mean anything. “Guess we should go then.”

They rose from their seats on a common agreement. Just as they were heading for the door though, Lance turned around. “Wait, I still have something to pick up.”

* * *

Lance got out of the cafe with a bright smile. A sundae sat cold in his hands. Shiro looked at it as if it personally offended him. He seemed shocked by the inherent presence of the sweet drink resting in Lance’s hands. 

“Told you, real college student experience is having a sugar addiction.” 

Shiro’s eyes twitched, sole indication of his annoyance - or disgust. Despite the scandalized look he had at Lance’s antics, the corner of his mouth twitched in a light smile. He shook his head, sighing. “I feel like I’d get diabete just from watching you.”

Lance huffed at him. “Whatever.” He wrinkled his nose and frowned for good measures.

They continued to walk towards Altea University peacefully, unlike last night’s hostile encounter. Some tension still remained, but it was almost gone following their coffee date - as enemies-turned-roomies. 

“It was nice to meet you in other circumstances,” Shiro said after a while.

“Some that don’t involve you being naked and a car accident? Likewise” Lance couldn’t help himself saying. _I still don’t trust you_ hung between them, left unsaid.

Shiro rolled his eyes at him, but Lance could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “See, an obsession. I’m gonna start thinking you’re the pervert.”

Lance felt himself blush before his mind processed the words. “That’s not true!” he cried out when it finally hit him. He tried to elbow Shiro, but he had already stepped aside in anticipation, chuckling at him. Lance nearly tripped forward, and in an attempt to steady himself, took a hold of Shiro’s jacket.

In response to the strain those motions had put on his body, his muscles flared up with vengeance. An involuntary pained groan slipped out of his mouth. “Fuck!” he swore quietly.

“Wow there!” Shiro went to help steady him, but he stopped with his hands hovering hesitantly just a breath away from Lance’s hips. “You’re okay?”

“As okay as one can be after surviving a car crash” Lance muttered. “My body hurts like a bitch because of you. So much for taking it easy…” When he noticed he was still clinging to Shiro’s jacket, he quickly let go, keeping his hands to his sides.

“And yet, you agreed to hang out,” Shiro pointed out.

“Yeah but that’s different!” Lance protested vehemently. “Can’t say no to coffee.” And, considering the man was his roommate, it would also be best to have a semblance of relationship, even as acquaintances.

Shiro looked at him like he was crazy, which probably had some truth to it. It wasn’t the first time Lance had asked himself that; for instance, when he agreed to be part of one of Keith’s shenanigans, or the simple fact that he was Keith’s stepbrother. But then Shiro chuckled slightly. 

“Can’t say I disagree there,” he began to say. “I’ll remember that next time I have to bargain for my life.”

When the joke should have landed flat (and it _truly_ should have if you’d asked him), Lance found himself unexpectedly laughing at it. This was dangerous.

Shiro seemed to preen at this achievement. He relaxed even more in apparent contentment, which drew a smile out of Lance.

Very dangerous indeed.

To avoid any slip up, Lance focused on his sundae. Shiro didn’t say anything either, following Lance and letting silence fall over them peacefully. They went back to Altea University like this, wandering quietly through the corridors and treating it like a pleasant stroll - as pleasant as a stroll between two supposed mortal enemies could be. 

Once they finally reached their shared dorm room, Lance let himself fall down on his bed, causing him to groan as pain shot up in his body. He didn’t have to look to perceive Shiro’s amusement, giving him the finger over his shoulder. Finally, the pain receded and he sighed in relief, letting himself sink into the mattress.

Shuffling noises on his right told him that Shiro had done the same. They stayed like this, Lance with his head buried into his pillow, Shiro doing god knows what on his own bed - though he could hear the soft sound of pages turning. Lance smooshed his face deeper into the pillow.

“You’re still a werewolf asshole.”

He heard a chuckle across from him. “Alright. But I’m a _rightful_ werewolf asshole.” The voice said, gravely and pleasant. Though Lance refused to acknowledge it. “And you’re a stupid hunter prick.”

Lance snorted. “I thought I wasn’t stupid.” He smiled, small and secretive. “But that’s fine by me.”

There was a moment of respite, only animated by the shuffling of pages and Lance's quiet respiration.

“I still hate you” Lance finally breathed out. 

Just as he was about to slip into Morpheus’s awaiting arms, he heard Shiro’s light reply, smooth and charming. “That’s okay.” No more, no less.

The audacity of this man.

With a weak, almost reproachful little laugh, Lance's eyes slipped shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side-note: Lance was a bit out of it and actually still had the gauze around his head as well as minor cuts and injuries that Keith treated (and put band-aids on) when he was out with Shiro, which earned him a lot of weird looks during his time outside. Shiro, bless his soul, didn't tell him and Lance had forgotten all about it anyway. 
> 
> So, we're already deep in it huh? I apologize for the awful pacing of this chapter, I believe it went quite fast from 0 to 100. I kept the prologue at the beginning chapter as it's quite important and also introduced Lance better in my head. Actually, I thought about ending the chapter the moment Lance fell asleep while sleeping in Keith's bed - it was set up as a good time to finish this. But somehow I wrote more, perhaps as a way to make up for being late.
> 
> I'm sorry that the pacing in this is crazy and the chapter went all over the place. It should go slower in the future!
> 
> The arts made for this fic are linked in the notes below. They're really beautiful, you should check them out~!
> 
> I'm gonna try updating as soon as I can, I have the second chapter somewhat planned out. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Mad here! First of all, I would like to apologize for how late I am. Life happened, but I should not have any excuses regarding all the time it took to get this posted. I'm grateful for the artists who collaborated with me, and I will link right here their fantastical art pieces for this fic; they really did an amazing job and I absolutely _adore_ it!!
> 
> Jeeves's art (really pretty and steamy~ hints to a future lewd scene): https://twitter.com/SugoiMonster/status/1340313252023119875?s=20
> 
> Shady's art (so beautiful and sweet 💙 a softer version of the same scene): https://twitter.com/ShadyZap2/status/1339050283159203841?s=20
> 
> Please send them a lot of love, they deserve it 💙!
> 
> So, this will be a fic with multi chapters. I don't know how many there will be yet as I have some things planned and I hope I'll be able to do everything. I will put more tags as I go, so watch out for them if you read this fic! Thank you for reading 💙


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